Promise
by LovelyLovett
Summary: Sweeney has promised Mrs.Lovett a child, but she quickly finds out that some promises are harder to keep.


"Hey, Sweeney?"

Mrs. Lovett stood in the doorway of the living room, shrugging off her coat as she came into the house. Although her cheeks were a bit flushed from the nippy seaside air, Sweeney recognized a red puffiness under her eyes and instantly became worried.

"Yes? How was it?" He knew she had just returned from her weekly doctor's appointment.

"Um…" The baker bit her lip as she stepped closer to her husband, casting her eyes on the floor.

"What? Is there something wrong? What's wrong with the baby?"

Within a split second, her composure was lost. Before she could get a word out, tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"Oh-oh no. Nellie, no, don't…"

"There is no baby," She choked out, shaking her head as she gasped for breath.

"What?"

" _There ain't no baby, Sweeney, I lost it!"_

"God, Nellie, I-I'm sorry. I'm so, _so_ sorry."

His stone cold heart began to ache as he saw his wife crumbling to pieces before him. She let out an ear-shattering scream and fell to the floor before beginning to sob loudly into her hands. Sweeney slowly knelt beside her and gently wrapped one arm around her, then leaned in and kissed her head.

"Sssshhh, it's okay...I'm so sorry, Nell, I know it hurts."

"I lost it, Sweeney. I killed the baby. Our child. Oh my god, oh my god, I-I can't…"

Mrs. Lovett let out a loud sob and curled up in her husband's arms, gripping tightly at his shirt as she cried in pain.

"It isn't fair!" She wailed, suddenly breaking free of the barber and running across the room.

Overcome with rage, despair, and more emotions than she could even name, Mrs. Lovett began to wreck everything in sight. She flipped over the coffee table and flung books from their shelves, smashing and throwing anything she could get her hands on. She felt like setting something on fire.

"Nellie!"

Sweeney was at her side in a moment, and quickly grabbed her arms, forcing them to her sides.

"Stop it, Nell. There's no need to throw a tantrum, you're being childish," He scolded as he roughly yanked her to the bedroom and sat her down on the edge of the bed.

Mrs. Lovett inhaled a shaky breath but let her husband do as he pleased, and obediently sat on the bed. Sweeney kneeled in front of her and took her hands, sitting in silence for a moment to let them both begin to process their situation.

"I'm sorry, Nellie, you don't deserve this." He finally mumbled.

Mrs. Lovett shrugged and turned away, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Hey," Sweeney got up and sat next to his wife, gently putting a finger under her chin to get her to look at him. "Don't shut me out."

"I wanted it so badly," Her voice was shaky and soft. "We worked so hard... _so hard..._ this baby was a miracle, Sweeney…"

"I know, I know," He sighed in remorse, pulling her closer to her and rubbing her back.

"No, you don't know! It was inside of me, Sweeney, I could _feel_ it!"

"I'm sorry, Eleanor, I wish there was something I could do."

"I want it back."

"I know you do."

"We-we came to the seaside...everything was supposed to be perfect...no more work, no more stress, just...me, you and the baby…"

"I know," Sweeney sighed, knowing where wasn't much else he could say for her.

Not knowing what else to say, Mrs. Lovett let just let herself cry. For hours and hours, she sat in bed with Sweeney and cried until there were no more tears in her body and her throat ached and her lungs burned. He wasn't sure when she fell asleep, for she had been in a trance like state all evening, but after what seemed like centuries of laying in bed, Sweeney got up to change his soaked shirt.

When he got back to bed, he stared at his wife and let out a small sigh. He felt terrible for her. As gently as he could, he got her changed out of her dress and into a nightgown. He then got a wet rag and gently wiped her eyes and nose. She stirred in her sleep, but quickly went back to sleep without any more fuss. After getting her a new clean and dry pillowcase, he slipped into bed and wrapped his arms around his wife, letting out a small sigh as he let his hands roam her abdomen. Trying not to think about it too much, he kissed the back of her head and quickly fell asleep for the night.

It was only a few hours before Mrs. Lovett was up again. She always had trouble sleeping when stressed or depressed. For a moment, she was numb. The world seemed so different at night; everything was still and peaceful. The chilly sea air bit at her skin, making her feel _alive_ for the first time in what felt like forever. Taking a deep breath, the baker got out of bed and padded into the kitchen to get some water. After gulping down two full glasses, she brought the third back to the bedroom and silently rested a hand on her husband's side as she sat up against the headboard. For a moment, she felt fine.

Then she remembered. And it felt like a blow to the gut. Everything from the pervious afternoon rushed through her memory and she felt as if the room was closing in on her. _She lost the baby._ Getting out of bed, she began to pace as she felt what little bit of sanity she had slowly slip away from her.

"Sweeney? Sweeney, wake up. Please wake up." She whispered a minute later, shaking him until he let out a small groan and began to rub his eyes. "I needa talk to you."

"Hmm? What is it now?"

She stopped her pacing and cleared her throat, then stared at the man opposite her. Tilting her head to the side, she took a step closer and sat on the edge of the bed.

"D'you believe in God?"

" _What?_ " Her question had caught him off-guard. Especially at 2 am.

"No." He answered in a slightly annoyed tone. He wasn't exactly in the mood for conversation.

"Well, neither do I..." She had prepared her response before she even got his answer.

"...but I was thinking…d'you think this is some sort of punishment? For…y'know, breaking the rules and stuff. Being a whore and cooking people into pie and being a bad wife to Albert and all. Because…because maybe it was just meant to be and-and I do believe in destiny an all that but- do you think this is some sort of shitty karma? Because I try to be a good person, I really do. And, I mean, I know I'm already going to hell, but shouldn't I have a right to be happy while I'm here? Don't you think I deserve to be happy? And isn't God supposed to bring happiness? Doesn't he love everybody? Fat lot of good he's done me. I just wanna be happy, Sweeney. I wanna be happy so bad."

Sweeney let out a long sigh when Nellie began to rant. Laying back in bed, he took her pillow and put it over his face for a moment before throwing it to the ground and taking a deep breath.

"I don't know, Nellie."

"Well, don't you think-"

"You want to know what I think? You're not going to get any answers, no matter what you believe in. It is what it is, and God is certainly not going to come down from the heavens and tell you that he meant to kill your baby," He snapped.

He couldn't see his wife's face through the darkness, but he could tell my her uneven, shaky breath that he had struck a nerve.

"I'm sorry, Nellie, I just- can we talk about this tomorrow? You must be exhausted, pet, come back to bed."

He reached his hand out to her, and she hesitantly took it, pressing her lips to his knuckles.

"I can't think straight," She whispered. "My mind feels all fuzzy. I need someone to talk to."

"It's alright, calm down. You're okay."

He pulled her closer and wrapped both arms around her.

"Please go to sleep."

"I can't-"

"Just try! Please. I promise we'll talk first thing in the morning, Nellie. I promise."

"Am I annoying you?"

"Yes. No. Just give me 4 more hours of sleep, alright?"

"Alright. I love you."

"Love you too. Now sleep."

Sweeney was, to his surprise, the first to wake the next morning. As he stared at the woman beside him he could tell that she had stayed up after him. Her eyes were still red and raw from crying. When Mrs. Lovett opened her eyes the next morning, she was surprised to see Sweeney staring back at her. Usually she was the first to wake.

"Morning, beautiful," He mumbled, giving her a small kiss before moving some hair out of her face.

"Morning," She yawned, kicking the covers off and beginning to stretch.

"How do you feel?"

"Um...I dunno."

"Talk." He said sternly, grabbing her chin to make sure she looked at him.

"I feel everything...and nothing. At the same time," She tried to explain, furrowing her eyebrows when she realized she made no sense.

"Oh." Sweeney gave a small nod.

"I thought when I woke up everything would be better but it's not."

"You've always been too optimistic for your own good."

"I'm going to make breakfast," She had decided not to reply to his previous comment because they both knew it was true.

Striding into the kitchen, Mrs. Lovett quickly retrieved a skillet and prepared some beans and toast. She burnt the toast while distracted by her thoughts, but decided to serve it either way. She sat opposite of Sweeney at the dining room table, and stared at her pathetic attempt at breakfast before daring to take a bite. It didn't taste as awful as she expected, but it was still noticeably burnt.

"Sorry," She sighed, pushing her plate forward.

"S'fine," Sweeney replied with a mouthful of food. He couldn't care less what it tasted like.

Mrs. Lovett smirked slightly when she looked up and saw her husband stuffing his face with her burnt food, finding it oddly endearing.

"What?" He asked after a moment when he noticed she'd been staring for quite a while.

"Nothing. Don't talk with your mouth full."

Sweeney rolled his eyes but didn't reply and went back to his food. There was silence for a minute, before a sudden thought popped into the baker's mind.

"Sweeney, I want another child."

He nearly choked on his food, but managed the swallow what was in his mouth before looking up at his wife with wide eyes.

"What?"

"I want to try for another baby. As soon as possible."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Well...I think you need a break. You need to grieve."

"I don't know how to grieve."

"You'll figure something out."

"But we can try again. Next year."

"Nellie…" He shook his head and reached across the table to hold her hand. "You're getting too old, Nell."

"But...but…" Her vision began to blur as fresh tears came to her eyes. "But I want a baby."

"You could adopt. Pick from one of the orphanages in London."

"I want _your_ child."

"Well Jesus, Nellie, maybe it just wasn't meant to be, alright?! I'm tired of trying! Do you know how draining it is being with you? All you ever talk about is babies! You're obsessed, Nellie! I didn't even want one in the first place, but you- you batted your eyelashes and you bloody coerced me into this like you always do! And I've been trying- do you know how hard I've been trying for you?! What do you want me to do, huh? Take you to bed, fuck you 'til you're pregnant again?!"

Mrs. Lovett froze at his words and dropped her gaze to the floor as her eyebrows furrowed.

"...that's what Albert did."

"What?"

"That's what Albert did when I lost his baby. He was so, _so_ disappointed in me for not giving him an heir. So he held me down and he fucked me. Again and again and _again."_

Her voice was empty, and she stared at the floor with cold, dead eyes.

"Eleanor," He breathed, not even sure how to react to her confession. "Christ, I-"

"Stop. I don't want pity…" She drew in a deep breath and forced a small smile. "...I want a child."

Clearing his throat again, Sweeney sat back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't exactly know how to go about her attitude change. They sat in silence for a moment before Mrs. Lovett slowly leaned forward.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. You've been so supportive all this time…" It felt more like a surrender than an apology, but she tried her best to sound genuine.

"Let's go over names then, shall we?" He suggested, ignoring her apology.

After being around Mrs. Lovett for so long, he had figured out exactly how she worked. Whenever something went wrong, she would hide behind a mask. It was the only thing she knew how to do; a self-defense mechanism of some sorts. Whenever something was too painful, she chose to lock herself up. Because feeling nothing was better than feeling too much. He understood it, in fact, he used the same tactics from time to time. The only downside was that when she finally let her walls down, everything would catch up with her.

And catch up with her it did.

Sweeney had decided to give Mrs. Lovett some space the next few days. She needed to grieve on her own, and he knew that there was nothing he could do to make her better. It was just a matter of time. He had packed their bags and convinced Nellie to move back ton London with her. She needed a change of scenery, and they both agreed that going back to work would help give her a distraction. For months she was numb. She hid behind her fake little smile and pretended everything was alright, and Sweeney let her. She spent her days sitting in the parlour, staring off into space, and during the evening she would open her shop. However, every night at around 1 in the morning, he could hear her getting out of bed. She would pace like mad, back and forth across the bedroom floor, and cry so hard she'd make herself vomit and had to sprint to the bathroom. He had tried to help her before, but all she would scream and shout until he was forced to back away. She didn't want him to see her in such a state. After weeks of this same routine, Sweeney had gathered the courage to reach out once again.

"Eleanor?" He said softly, padding across the hallway and prying open the bathroom door.

She was on the floor, leaning against the wall. Her tear-dampened skin glistened in the moonlight, and her auburn hair stuck out every which way, looking like a mangled demonic shadow. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she gasped for air, only stopping when she let out a whimper or cry. Her eyes were sunken in, but as she looked up at him, he saw a flicker of relief.

"It's alright," He kneeled down and gently took her in his arms.

He frowned when he felt her begin to shake and cry even harder, but simply kissed her on the head and began to rub her back.

"You're alright, Nell, it's okay. Hush now."

"It hurts," She finally croaked, pulling back ever so slightly to look at him. There were no words that would ever begin to cover the pain she felt, but she was hoping that he would somehow understand.

"I know, pet. I know you're hurting."

"I can't do this anymore...please...make it stop."

"I'm here, it's okay. I...I'll make it better, I promise."

Mrs. Lovett nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't know how, but she trusted Sweeney to make things better. He always did.

Without another word, Sweeney picked her up and brought her to the kitchen. He sat her down at the table and put a glass of water in front of her.

"Drink. You're dehydrated," He ordered, his tone firm but not harsh.

Still sniffling, Mrs. Lovett did as he said.

"Now, I've been thinking for the past few months and...well, I think you deserve a child. It's going to be hard to start from scratch, but...I'm willing to try again."

Mrs. Lovett inhaled a deep breath and leaned back in her seat. He was willing to try again. He was willing to go through months agonizingly and meticulously planning and waiting and testing, all for her.

"Really?" She breathed, raising an eyebrow. It felt surreal.

"Yes."

Her lips curled up into a small smile and she quickly stood to wrap her arms around him. Closing her eyes, she inhaled his scent and buried her face in his neck for a moment, then pulled away and gave him a long, loving kiss.

"Promise?" She mumbled against his lips as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Promise."


End file.
